"You mean you saw my cap or jacket--or maybe my gloves?"
"It was yo' cap, an' so I came in. I hope you have no particular
objection?" His face had flushed to a violent crimson and in his throat
his Adam's apple worked rapidly up and down between the high points of
his collar. "I mean," he stammered presently, "that I wouldn't have gone
in if I hadn't seen that bit of red through the do'. I suppose I had
better tell you, that I've been thinking a great deal about you in the
evening when my day's work is over."
"I'm glad I don't interfere with your farming."
"That would be a pity, wouldn't it? Do you ever think of me, I wonder,
at the same time?" he inquired sentimentally.
"I can't tell because I don't know just what that time is, you see."
"Well, along after supper generally--particularly if ma has made
buckwheat cakes an' I've eaten a hearty meal an' feel kind of cosy an'
comfortable when I set down by the fire an' there's nothin' special to
do."
"But you see I don't like buckwheat cakes, and I've always something
'special' to do at that hour."
"Ah, you don't mean it, do you--about not liking buckwheat cakes? As
for the rest, bein' a woman, I reckon you would have the washin' up to
attend to just at that time.
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